Amor Fati
by Magi Silverwolf
Summary: Xenophilius fell in love at first sight. But then, who wouldn't? (HC fill; MC4A fill)


**Disclaimer:** I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.

 **Warnings:** This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers. Please exercise understanding of personal boundaries before and during reading.

 **Author's Note (Generic Note for the** _ **Houses Competition**_ **):** All my works should be considered to be Not Epilogue Compliant and I treat everything that is not the HP books and the Hogwarts Library Collection as _apocrypha_ (supplementary to canon but still outside of it) and treat it as such. I also make a policy of not ignoring abusive and distasteful actions/decisions of characters and not handwaving the effects of trauma experienced by characters. If you feel that a character isn't acting like their "canon self" chances are good that it's because of one of these two things and they are merely displaying a more realistic response than they did in canon.

 **Author's Note(s):** Reminder to _all readers_ that the name of Luna's mother is _never mentioned in canon_. Any name you _think_ belongs to her is from the _apocrypha_. As "Pandora" is an absolutely horrid name to burden a child with, I have elected to ignore that bit of apocrypha. (Don't get me started on the name "Cassandra" either.)

 **Challenge/Competition Block** :  
 **House** : Hufflepuff  
 **Year:** 6th  
 **Category:** Standard (750 – 1500 words)  
 **Prompt:** Silver (color)  
 **Intrahouse Challenge:** Black (color) or Yellow (color)  
 **Representation:** Dione; Love at First Sight; Unspeakable/Government Service; Dione  
 **Stacked with:** Houses Competition (Term 3); Not Commonwealth; Seriously Important (Not); Terms of Service; Fem Power Challenge  
 **Bonus Challenge(s):** Second Verse (Some Beach); Second Verse (Middle Name); Second Verse (Tomorrow's Shade); Second Verse (Unwanted Advice); Second Verse (Not a Lamp); Second Verse (Odd Feathers); Second Verse (Lock & Key);  
 **Word Count** : 1081

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Amor Fati  
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"There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness."  
– Friedrich Nietzsche  
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Xenophilius Lovegood went to Mystikó for work the first time. He was the newest member of the Department of Mysteries, barely more than an assistant. It was a major step down from the position he had held previously as Deputy Head of the Being Division, but after all the fighting with Newt Scamander and Lyall Lupin, it had been either accept the position as an Unspeakable or another one in the Centaur Liaison Office. At least as a lowly assistant, he would still receive a salary, and more than one of the senior researchers had need for an extra set of hands on research trips like the one that brought him to the Greek island in the first place.

Mystikó was a small island off the coast of Kythira, another Greek island. It had been made hidden and protected three millennia before wizardry become the fashionable way to use magic. It was completely Unplottable in ways that circumvented many of the gaps of modern methods, rendering it completely undetectable to Muggle methods (an increasingly worrisome issue to those willing to acknowledge that Muggles weren't backwards children due to their lack of magic). With the split having occurred so long ago, much of the island's population was a mixture of magical races without the divisions found in mainstream wizarding culture around the world. The entire island was saturated in ambient magic, making even the normally mundane flora and fauna rich in it. There were also magical species of both kinds of life along with magical practices which had long since been lost in the rest of the world.

That last part was the reason that the Department of Mysteries for the British Ministry of Magic had any interest in visiting the island. The way things were going in the British Isles, more than a few people were becoming desperate for ways to help and were getting less particular about whether that was to help just protect people or to actually defeat the self-titled Lord Voldemort. None of the nation's leaders seemed overly inclined to actually take combative measures against the man and his forces, even when they threatened not just the stability and safety of Britannia but the very Statute of Secrecy itself.

Thus, Xenophilius found himself at the ripe age of nearly thirty, six months into a new position and staring at a non-British island for the first time. The setting sun had bathed the entire dock area in a golden light which had turned the weathered wood of the pier a creamy yellow. The pale limestone and only slightly darker mudstone mixed to make up the cliff that led to the rest of the island. Deep yellow lichen clung to the stone in smears and splotches, as if it was paint that had been tossed upon a canvas. Some black stone marked the path that zig-zagged its way up the cliff's face. It glinted in the light that was darkening into a rich amber hue, edging towards orange as the sun likewise edged towards the horizon.

It was captivating.

Xenophilius could _feel_ the island singing to—oh, to his _soul_. A flicker of fear awoke within him, a brief acknowledgement of danger, but more than anything he felt himself sinking into the song. It had no words, but he wanted to sing along with it. Oh, how he _wanted_. He felt as if he was suddenly alive, as if everything up to this point had merely been a dream that was finally passing.

"It is good that you do not intend to stay," said a voice, interrupting his captivation.

Xenophilius snapped his gaze to the woman standing near him. She was just as beautiful as the island behind her, like something out of a dream. Her nut-brown hair had been chopped short except for a single braid that hung from her left temple. It was crimped in places by plain silver beads that glinted in the fading light. Her silver eyes had streaks of a purple hue similar to the heather that covered the moors near the manor house where he had been raised. She smiled at him, and it was like rain clouds parting to allow the sweetness of silvery moonlight fall upon him for the first time. She was as perfect as the goddess said to have been born upon the nearby Kythira and her magical aura as seductive as the sirens of old. It sang to his tired heart just as wantonly as the magic of the island itself had.

"I love you," Xenophilius declared. The feeling echoed through him, sinking into his bones. True, the suddenness of it warred with his logical side; he knew that it wasn't rational. It still marched into his very soul, to the core of him, as fierce as Artemis in defense of her huntresses and as chaotic as Persephone.

"Silly man," she scolded, clearly amused, "you do not even know my name."

"Does one need to know what the stars called to know that they burn?" Xenophilius fell to his knees as he raised his hands to her in supplication. "Tell me, O goddess divine, by what name may I address the one who has captured my heart with her existence alone? At whose altar has my heart been left forevermore?"

"You have rightfully named me, you flatterer." She laid her palms against his, accepting his suit. Xenophilius tangled his fingers in her many silver bangles as he bowed his head to lay a chaste kiss to the tip of each finger. "I am called Dione, like the Titaness of ancient myth."

"It is fitting that you should share a name with the mother of Aphrodite," Xenophilius said, "for who else could create love from nothing than the one who bore the goddess of love?"

"You're magic-drunk," Dione accused gently before laughing. She tossed her head back as she did, light glinting off the silver crimps in her braid. When she returned her gaze to his, her silver eyes twinkled the same way. "It has stolen your ability to reason!"

"No, darling," he countered, "not stolen. It has merely been conquered by my love for you." Xenophilius looked up at her adoringly. "It is a welcomed defeat that I will never regret."

"Don't make promises you cannot keep."

Xenophilius smiled with all the confidence of a man in love.

" _I don't_."

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An Ending  
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End file.
